Valentine for the Man
by Kimmydonn
Summary: Entry in the 2010 For My Valentine contest. Nessie makes her first valentine for the man of her life. See ForMyValentineTwilight profile for other entries.
1. Chapter 1

**I Love/Hate Nessie VD Contest**

**Pen Name: Kimmydonn  
**

**Link to FFnet Profile: **www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/u/2175593/

**Story Title: Valentine for the Man  
**

**Rating: K+  
**

**Disclaimer: All characters are SMs  
**

**Summary: Nessie is making her first Valentine for the Man of her life.  
**

**Stance: Love**

* * *

_So I'm also entering in a Nessie contest, because this is a Nessie story after all._

* * *

Esme set out the paint in two pans, white and red. Claire and I each had a paper heart as wide as we could reach in front of us. Mine was baby blue and hers was a lemony yellow. Claire immediately stuck her fingers into the red paint and put a pair of hand prints on her heart. I watched her for a while. I knew what the paint was for; I'd been told we were making Valentines, but I still wasn't quite sure what I should do.

Next, Claire grabbed one of Esme's sponges, cut into a heart. She put a series of white hearts across the middle of the Valentine. I put two fingertips in each color and outlined my Valentine in alternating dots. She continued to play, using her fingers to spread paint to every corner of her heart and a bit on the table too. I couldn't do anything fine with my fingers or the sponges, but based on Claire's efforts, it seemed enthusiasm was the order of the day, not neatness.

Sure enough, that was when Claire reached across the table and slapped a hand-print on my heart. It was pink, a result of her spreading colors on her Valentine.

At first, I was annoyed; she had ruined mine. I looked up at her, angry, but her smile was bright and she made more slapping motions with her hand. I looked at the hand on my Valentine. Then I put my hands into each color and turned her single hand into a sun radiating fingers. That looked better. Then I rubbed my hands together and, with my wrists joined, made two pink 'finger' hearts. I took a clean sponge and added more little hearts around these.

Claire seemed to be more satisfied with my piece now and was asking Esme to write on her drying Valentine. "Claire's Heart, For Quil," she said quite clearly.

"It will need to dry a bit more before I can write on it, dear," Grandmother explained.

"Mine's done," I announced.

"What do you want yours to say, Nessie?" Grandmother asked. I was planning to write on it myself once it was dry, so I just shook my head for now.

"I want to make another, for Daddy," I requested. "Claire? Will you help?"

Claire smiled and came to my side of the table while Grandmother cut out another heart for us. This one was black. I frowned, that wasn't a very nice Valentine color. But as we put the white and red paint on, it was a much nicer contrast. I smiled and laughed as my hands kept fighting with Claire's for paint and space to draw. Daddy's Valentine would be much less artistic than Jacob's, but much wetter. I had paint on the back of my hands as well as my palms. Claire had slapped my hand on more than one occasion, missing the Valentine entirely.

I put a hand to Claire's cheek to show her how much fun I was having and to thank her. She smiled at me and then put her hand on my face, smearing paint over my cheek and nose. I laughed louder and turned her ear white and her neck red. Claire laughed with me, and I soon had hand prints all over my paint shirt and a few in my hair. Claire's hair was streaks of red and pink. I ran a finger down her nose leaving a white line there.

Grandmother finally thought we'd made just about enough of a mess. "Is it finished?" she asked.

I reached up and put a hand to her cheek too. She frowned at first. I showed her that I wanted to write on them later and her how much I fun I had! I thanked her for letting us make such a mess of her kitchen.

She smiled then. "I'm glad you had fun, Nessie. Now I need to wash both of you before I return you to your mothers."

Claire and I made a wetter but less dirty mess in Grandmother's bathroom. She had given us bubbles and we got a little carried away blowing them at each other and attempting to make sculptures on each others heads. I showed Claire how to blow bubbles in the water and we turned into two motor boat kicking our way around the giant tub.

We were both down stairs with wet hair when Quil and Jacob arrived. Grandmother had used a gold glitter glue to write "Claire's Heart" across the top of her Valentine. A little lower, in slightly smaller letters, it read, "For Quil."

Claire gave Quil his Valentine right away. She held it proudly out to him. "For Quil!" she said loudly.

His expression was great to watch. There was a moment of shock and then a smile as warm and bright as any Jacob had ever given me. "Thank you, Claire! It's perfect! Are you sure you want to give your heart to me?" He knelt down to take the heart and she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.

"All for Quil," she said quietly. Quil closed his eyes, hugging her back.

Jacob looked at me expectantly and I looked down, blushing a little. I didn't want to give it to him yet; I wanted a chance to write on it first. He looked a little disappointed, so I jumped into his arms to show him that I had made one, but it wasn't finished yet.

"I'll wait till the fourteenth then," he said with a smile.

Before returning to the cottage, I wrote two poems, one for Jacob and one for Edward. Grandmother read as I wrote and I heard her choke once. Good, I was choosing the right words, the right thoughts. I glued them to the back of the hearts and planned to give them on Valentine's Day.

When I woke in the morning, I left Daddy's outside his door while he was still in bed with Mama. Then I put Jacob's on our doorstep, knowing he'd be coming to visit soon. I sat down at the piano and started plunking out Fur Elise. It was still difficult with my tiny fingers, but I was getting better. Daddy would add the chords and we might play some other pieces when he was ready to come out.

xoxoxox

Valentine's Day with Bella. Technically, it wasn't our first, just our first as husband and wife. Our first Valentine's Day I had spent ignoring the fact that a beautiful, intelligent, mysterious and very human woman was sitting next to me, stealing my every thought, just because she smelled far too good. The second she'd spent with Jacob Black, and I could never punish myself enough for that. I'd been an utter fool, breaking the heart of the woman I love and driving her inexorably into the arms of another man. This was _our_ first, and I was going to make her every wish, her every whim a reality.

Thinking on that, I added new fervor to my kisses, intensified my touch and was rewarded with her gasp and moan. "Remember, you were going to shift your shield for me today. I want to know _exactly_ what you want," I teased her.

"Edward," she whispered and her voice made my thoughts fly. But this wasn't about what I wanted, and I pushed them away again.

It had been a tough decision; keep Renesmee for the day or impose on the family for time alone? While my hunger for Bella, in every way possible, had not diminished much at all yet, our daughter was so precious, growing and changing so quickly. She was so interesting to spend time with. Bella wanted to spend the day with her just as much as I did. It was her first Valentine's Day ever. So, we had decided to keep her for the morning. She would spend the night with my parents in their house and Bella and I would return to our unending night of love. A night that had only been interrupted, not ended, in the six months since it had begun.

I heard Nessie playing the piano and gave Bella one more kiss before we both dressed to face the world outside each others arms. Was there really a world outside Bella's arms? It was hard to see it sometimes. I opened the door and found a painted heart on the floor. I picked it up, showing it to Bella.

"Esme said she and Claire had made Valentines. I thought it was for Jacob, though," Bella explained. She walked past me to sit and listen with Renesmee.

There were smears of red, pink and white hands across the entire heart. Her hands had obviously continued right off the edge of the paper. I couldn't resist smiling at the enthusiasm that would have gone into making this. It was also a permanent reminder of how tiny Renesmee's hands were. It would be even more dear next year when she had grown so much bigger.

I turned the heart over. It was apparently made of black paper, although there was very little black left on the painted side.

**A Valentine for the Man**

**The Man who guards me from all harm**  
**The Man who loves me from tip to toe**  
**The Man who shares my hopes and dreams**  
**The Man who leads but can follow me too**  
**The Man who cares for my every need**  
**The Man who lights my days and warms my nights**  
**More than friend or brother,**  
**My Jacob**

"Of course it was for Jacob," I grumbled to myself. I was disappointed. I loved my little girl so very much. It was impossible that I was a father, and yet here I was, with a child every bit as intelligent, beautiful and loving as her mother. That seemed nearly as impossible as that I had sired her. She certainly didn't need a father the way ordinary toddlers did. She was brilliant and physically capable, but she still shared so much with me. Our love of music and reading, medicine and science. She turned to me for answers she couldn't readily find on her own. She was the daughter of my heart as much as my body.

And of course her heart belonged to Jacob. Now mine was broken. It shouldn't have been, but I had been jealous of Jacob for so long, for so many reasons – for the attention and love Bella gave him, for Renesmee's regard, for his humanity. Even as I drowned myself in these thoughts, I heard the mind of the man who had stolen my baby, taken her heart on the day she was born, before. I growled very quietly.

But as I listened to his thoughts, my anger faded. I could read another poem through his head:

**A Valentine for the Man**

**The Man who guards me from all harm**  
**The Man who loves me from tip to toe**  
**The Man who shares my hopes and dreams**  
**The Man who knows my mind and heart**  
**The Man who taught me right from wrong**  
**The Man who gave me life and limb**  
**More than Daddy or Father,**  
**My Edward.**

_Wow, a Valentine for Edward. That's sweet. I wonder if she still has one for me? __This was the one she showed me yesterday.__ Nah, probably not – Daddy's the Man._ _She's one great little girl, Nessie._

She was every bit as loving as her mother. I should have remembered that. Of course her tiny heart was big enough for both of us. I smiled and walked to the door.

"Come in, Jacob." I greeted him warmly. He seemed a little surprised when I opened the door. He was even more surprised at the grin on my face. "I think there may have been a mix-up." I held out the Valentine with his name on the bottom.

_Nope, no mix up at all. I love you, Daddy. I love you, Jacob._


	2. Big News! I'm Published!

Let me start by saying I'm only go to do this once. I promise.

Next, if you noticed a lot of chapter alerts with the same title, that's because they're all the same, skip/delete the others.

Finally, I wanted to give this big news to as many people as I could, which is the only reason I'm doing this (see first point)

Okay! The good news! I'm published!

That's right! If you've enjoyed my stories, which I bet you have as you've put me on alert, now is your chance to read a completely original story written by yours truly.

Cargon: Honour & Privilege is my first novel, but I already have two more complete manuscripts, so a second isn't far off. It is set on a future earth after a cataclysmic even has destroyed nearly all of our technology. It is the time of the second renaissance. The story revolves around Eve, a servant in a caste-style society who has the nerve and the guile to step out of her set role and take on a new and much loftier one.

Here's the back blurb:

* * *

Lives are won, lost and traded on the three-tiered Cargon boards.

Eve, a serving-girl, has watched the elite from the outside, seen the dramatic shifts based on the results of the Game. With a growing need to reach beyond her station, she can no longer accept her position on the edges.

Wagering her own life, she wins and emerges in a strange new world. New rules and old acquaintances tangle to make Eve's life less comfortable than her position would suggest.

One pawn moved, but an entire world shaken – Eve will change the world.

* * *

Copies are available at Amazon (kindle and paper versions) and signed copies, as well as information about up-coming book, blog posts from me, tour dates as I book them, are all be available on my website: Kimmydonn. com

I'm so excited about this, my first release. I've had a bit of a stumble out of the gate and that's gotten me down, but I'm hoping some of you will perk me back up, possibly with sales, but even with just reviews/PMs of congrats. I'll appreciate all of them.

I thought I'd finish by including an excerpt from the book. After demonstrating her wit to the High One, Eve was moved into classes with elite. She is still a servant, still apart from them, but in their realm. (Excuse the formatting, I pulled this from my final PDF copy ;)

* * *

Awaking early from the nightmare, she entered the classroom  
an hour before the elite students. Even so, the Ernst was there  
ahead of her. "If a rock is placed in the sea, does the rock become  
wet or does the sea become rocky?"

Eve smiled, but didn't raise her eyes. This was exactly the sort  
of question he would ask his class. "Both. The rock joins those on  
the bottom, making the sea rocky. As well, the rock, having space  
within, takes in water, becoming wet."

The Ernst smiled at her. "And, if the rock were not porous?"

"Then only the sea would become rocky, as the rock would  
retain no water upon removal. Nor, if the rock were the only one in  
the sea could the sea be said to be rocky either. Was this the only  
rock in the sea?" Only after she asked did she realize she was  
looking up at the Ernst.

His milky blue eyes shone. "You are a fine student. Take your  
place," he sighed. Eve heard the students approaching. Today, the  
Ernst quizzed his students on the nature of time and its flow. Was  
it even, like water poured from a pitcher, or variable like the wind?  
Eve imagined it was choppy like water in a stream. It generally  
flowed in one direction, but it was possible to be thrown back, with  
memory and dream, to an earlier time, only to be rushed forward  
again. She made plans to write this after class was complete.

Prince Louis came to her as he had so many times before. He  
was significantly older than his classmates, making Eve wonder  
why he was still here. His hand came to rest over her breasts,  
where she had pinned the bloom today.

"That bloom will never fade. I think his attention is not so  
constant. But mine is, as you can see." Eve set her teeth at that. She  
taunted him, but did not seek his affections. Prince Louis put his  
nose to her hair now, inhaling deeply. He sighed. "Would you taste  
as wonderful as you smell, I wonder?" His hand traced down her  
side, just off her skin. It brushed the fabric of her skirt, and she  
stepped to the side. It was not strictly permitted, but neither was  
his touch.

He sidestepped with her, grinning now. "Skittish. I like that.  
Where will you jump to next?" He moved to place his hand on her  
chest again, and she leaned away to her left, twisting from him.  
Her skirts brushed his legs. That wasn't permitted either. She  
backed away again.

He continued to pursue her as she backed herself into the  
corner. He put his hands to either side of her head, trapping her  
effectively. Finally, unable to find another response, she turned her  
eyes level to his. In them she held all of her hatred, her anger, his  
loss of honour. Would he continue to ignore the impropriety he  
was inflicting? Would he simply accept the slight she had  
delivered by staring him down?

He seemed to, showing no offence and instead dipping his  
nose to her bloom. He was nearly touching her breasts. She tried  
not to breathe while he inhaled deeply. "Smells wonderful, but I  
think that's not the bloom. I do wish our stations were not so  
distant." He pulled his arms away and turned from her.

It had been over a year since the first time he had approached  
her, but for the second time she fell to the floor in relief. She had  
nearly spat on him! He would have had her beaten severely for  
that. She sniffled, and only then realized tears streamed her face.  
She pulled a kerchief and wiped them away before rising. She took  
one more deep breath and strode to her lunch with what time  
remained.

* * *

If you'd like to read a larger sample, there are a few chapters available on Google Books. Thanks so much for reading!


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